


The Only Easy Day (wasn't yesterday, because yesterday had dinosaurs)

by sergeant_angel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Jurassic World (2015), Marvel, Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Bucky has his arm and Steve has his shield NO I DON'T HAVE A EXPLANATION, F/M, Gen, Jailbreaks, Kate and Sam hate each other but they hate everything else more, Multi, Nick Fury is just about done with your shit inGen, Phil is a former SEAL and deserves so much better tbh, also featuring my 'one of Gabe Jones' sister married Dernier i will FIGHT YOU' headcanon, gory dino death, just go with it, magic users did not get signed out of the raft for this field trip, no t-rex heroics here sorry, post civil-war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 00:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10262195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeant_angel/pseuds/sergeant_angel
Summary: A genetically modified dinosaur goes on a rampage, and the group formerly known as the Avengers gets called in to help.Claire, Owen, and Barry just want to make it out of this mess alive. They're not sure this is the kind of "help" they need.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place fairly soon after Civil War. Bucky has his arm and isn't frozen because...he isn't.  
> some of the Young Avengers have been captured as well--Kate, Tommy, Billy, and Teddy are with Scott, Wanda, Clint, and Sam on/in the Raft.  
> Magic users did not get a day pass, because they are much harder to catch. Theoretically.  
> Also, as for the layout of the park my attitude was "????? I need this to be here."

Owen works with actual, honest-to-god dinosaurs, so saying that something gave him the shock of his life is saying something.

Considering that today, the dinosaurs have gone on a goddamn killing spree, it’s _really_ saying something.

Seeing his former C.O., a man who is supposed to be dead, disembark from what looks like a stealth plane with a woman in handcuffs, delivers this shock.

She has a black eye and a pissed off expression, and is followed by two men, also in cuffs. He’s seen one of them on the news, Owen realizes with a start. Only then he’d been wearing a jetpack with _wings_.

“So, we’re dinosaur bait?” The woman looks unimpressed.

“I’m so glad I did _not_ give the okay for my kid to come here,” the third guy says to no one in particular.

“You let her have a giant ant as a pet,” the woman points out, “which is plenty weird, Scott.”

“I don’t need your crap, Hawkeye,” Scott winds up gesturing with both hands since they’re attached to each other.

“Oh my _God,_ ” the guy Owen recognizes groans. “I hate both of you so, so much.”

“Children,” the guy who can’t possibly be Coulson interrupts them, the reprimand clear in his voice. “We’re here to work.”

“Like a chain gang,” Scott chimes in, clearly thinking he’s being very helpful.

“I don’t want to ride home with them,” Hawkeye fidgets with her hands.

“We’re dealing with an emergency here, people,” the man who’s clearly in charge ignores all of the squabbling. “Lots of potential civilian casualties. Was that unclear to anyone?”

The message has the intended effect of shutting up all three.

“Grady!” The man shouts. The man who is not Coulson and can’t possibly be Coulson because Coulson is dead and Owen _went to his funeral._ “Hawkeye, the Falcon, Scott,” he introduces his team with a nod to each person. “Give us an update on the situation.”

“Holy _shit_ , sir,” Owen starts. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

The woman gives an unimpressed snort. “Guy, you work with _dinosaurs_ , and a middle-aged white dude being alive is what impresses you?”

“Thank you for that, Hawkeye.”

“Just trying to keep it real, Phil.”

“You make out with ninety year olds,” the Falcon says, and Owen chokes. “I don’t think you’re an accurate barometer for that sort of thing.”

* * *

Claire has seen a lot of weird shit. She works at a dinosaur park. It’s kind of hard to get her off-balance.

This day has been full of things that are trying to throw her off balance, and then eat her when she stumbles.

So a helicopter landing in front of her doesn’t exactly impress. Three people piling out of it, all in restraints, that gets her interest.

Captain America getting out of the helicopter is what finally bowls her over.

She thinks about dinosaur DNA preserved in amber and Captain America preserved in ice and has to fight back a momentary burst of hysteria.

“Are you here to help InGen cover their asses?” She asks just as Captain America says, “Are you Claire Dearing? We’re here to help.”

* * *

Barry is just about done with today.

He trains _raptors_ , do you even understand how hard it is to get a jump on him?

But his ex-wife getting out of a quinjet is not what he was expecting.

“If you’re going to tell me InGen is actually Hydra, I think you should at least take me to dinner first.”

“Stop flirting with me, Barry,” Maria presses a kiss to his cheek as she says it, somewhat undermining her point.

“Is that why you said I should take this job?” He realizes. “Because Hydra?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We didn’t even know Hydra was still around when I told you to take this job. I just thought you’d enjoy a new audience for your repeated quoting of ‘The Female of the species is more deadly than the male’.”

Barry is distracted from his retort—which is a pity, it was a very good retort—by the appearance of someone he’d seen in one of his grandfather’s old black-and-white photographs.

“Please don’t fanboy,” Maria says, but it’s too late. Barry shoves past Maria to stand in front of her copilot, who looks warily at his surroundings.

“Bucky _Barnes_?”

* * *

Claire leads Captain America and his friend to the command central for InGen’s strike team. She has the feeling she should know his copilot, too, but someone like him should stand out in memory, right?

Hoskins knows him, though. Hoskins doesn’t even notice Captain America, but all the blood rushes from his face when he sees the guy with the eyepatch.

“Look, we don’t need to deal with your crap right now—"

“Maybe if you spent as much time worrying about containment as you do about genetic manipulation, InGen wouldn’t keep having these sorts of problems.”

“Get them out of here,” Hoskins starts to say, before he’s slammed down, his face pressed against the table.

“The Avengers are taking over this operation,” eyepatch-guy proclaims. “Anyone who has a problem with that can wait for a boat.”

Captain America does nothing but cross his arms and look very imposing, but apparently that’s all it takes.

“Someone find an empty room and lock this joker in it.”

Claire realizes with a sinking sensation where she’s seen him before.

* * *

Owen is still coming to grips with his not-dead CO, and his plane with a small armory in it.

And the criminals/terrorists/superheroes he brought along with him.

Scott is the only one who has been allowed out of his restraints, with the grudging admission that, “he’d probably get out of them sooner rather than later, anyway.”

The other two seem to resent this a hell of a lot.

“That _thing_ is the new alpha for my raptors,” Owen tells Coulson. “And if they’re communicating, they might get the _indominus_ hunting with the pack. And if they’re hunting as a pack, they might be more predictable.”

“ _Might_?” Falcon echoes.

“ _Indominus_?” Hawkeye repeats. For as antagonistic as the two of them seem, Hawkeye and Falcon share a lot. Like incredulous looks and disbelieving tones. “Is that even a real dinosaur?”

“Absolutely not. It’s a Frankenstein dinosaur—"

“Frankenstein’s monster,” Falcon corrects. “Frankenstein—"

“Was the doctor,” Hawkeye finishes for him.

“I don’t have time for lit class!” Owen snaps. “What is your problem?”

“I’m just here to shoot things,” Hawkeye says with the attitude of someone who was planning on doing a lot more than shooting things but has been put in the corner.

“Spit it out, Hawkeye,” Coulson sighs.

“Guns didn’t work,” she states. “Your guys kept shooting it—her?”

“Her,” Owen nods.

“Kept shooting her. So her hide is made of Teflon, good for the scientists. It means you have to hit her where you’d hit anything else.”

“Belly?” Scott guesses.

“Throat?” Falcon tries.

“Her eyes,” Hawkeye says, staring at Owen.

“She moves too fast.”

“Bull _shit_. When she was getting all chatty with your raptors she wasn’t moving at all.”

“Well, she won’t hold still now, that’s for sure. Nobody can make that shot.”

“And _that_ is why I’m here.”

* * *

“We’d have to have a wide perimeter,” Barry rubs his hand across his scalp, sighing. “If they’re hunting in a pack…”

“I know, man,” Owen’s voice crackles from a walkie-talkie. “But apparently we’ve got some killer marksmen here to help, so….” His voice trails off. “We’re going to have to have them triangulate.”

“Equilateral or isosceles?” Maria unfurls a map of the area on the hood of the jeep.

“Who the hell—"

“It’s fine, Owen. She’s with…the Avengers.” He raises a questioning eyebrow at Maria, who shrugs.

“Uh—" there’s a whispered conference on Owen’s end before he comes back with, “Isosceles. Someone’s going to have to be farther away than the other two.”

“That will be the one we have here,” Barry decides. He remembers his grandpere’s stories. Barnes is the best sniper, and Barry knows he’ll be the best at the farthest distance.

“Okay, good. I’ll need to coordinate with Claire, and we’ll need something as bait.”

“Or someone,” Maria mutters, but not quietly enough.

“I _knew_ it,” someone yells from Owen’s end. “I _knew_ you wanted one of us to get eaten by a dinosaur, Coulson, you motherf—"

The connection cuts out.

* * *

“Did you get some surprise guests, too?” Owen asks Claire.

She eyes Captain America and his traveling buddies.

“Yep.”

“One of them a sharpshooter?”

“Oh! That’s me!” The man with the sandy blond hair and the impressive black eye raises his hand.

Or attempts to. His hands are cuffed together, so he mostly just raises his hands above his head.

“You’re such a loser, Barton,” the other guy says. His hair is pure white, but it doesn’t make him look older. It makes him look like a teenager trying to be edgy. He’s probably _not_ a teenager, but Claire is bad with ages.

Tommy. Nick, Clint, Tommy. Tommy is the young one, Clint is the one with the broken nose, Nick is the one who’s brother died in the original park.

“We’re trying to figure out the best place to lure her and where to stick the guns,” Owen continues, oblivious to the bickering on Claire’s end as Clint and Tommy snipe at each other. “Any ideas?”

“I might,” Claire closes her eyes and visualizes the layout of the park. She knows this place backwards and forwards and inside out.

“What do you even do? Just run, that’s wh—"

“Owen, give me a minute. I’ll get back to you.” Claire turns her gaze on the two who are fighting. “Excuse me. What’s your problem?”

They stare at her.

“There is a dinosaur on a killing spree wandering around this park. There are still people on the island. People who are _my_ responsibility. With Mr. Masrani dead, I’m in charge here. So the two of you need to shut up and get with the program, because I’m not going to let the two of you acting like _children_ get in my way. Either help, or go wait in your chopper.”

“Okay.”

“Yes ma’am,” Tommy looks even younger as he stares at the floor. There’s something slightly disingenuous about the action—like he knows it’ll make him seem more sympathetic. Claire glares at him when he looks at her, and he grins.

He’s one of _those_.

Claire shakes her head to clear it. “So we have two shooters?”

“I brought one,” Steve says.

“I brought along two,” Fury adds. There’s a look of surprise on Steve’s face, his eyes darting to Clint and his brow furrowing.

“Right.” Claire closes her eyes again. She doesn’t know anything about shooting, but she does know about cameras and blind spots and visibility in the resort area of the park. They’d had an incident a few months ago with some overprivileged Ivy League kid selling drugs at the resort, so she’d gotten familiar with that sort of thing. “I think the best place is going to be near the mosasaurus lagoon,” she decides. “It’s more open there, and it’s low, so we can put the shooters on the high ground—there are lots of rooftops. That will also mean it’s harder for the indominus to hide. If we go out farther out from the resort, there’s less visibility. More trees, that sort of thing.”

“Won’t that be too close to where the ferries are?” Captain America asks, the question more probing than accusatory.

“It’s as far away from them as we can get and still be in the resort. Camera coverage is better here, so Lowery can track her—and do you have explosives? Maybe we could put some of them a ways from the dock, so if she goes that far, we can set them off and try to turn her back.”

“Oh my god,” she hears Grey whisper to Zach. “Aunt Claire is a total badass.”

* * *

Barry knows the place Claire is talking about, which is why he gets to drive a World War Two veteran to one of the abandoned outbuildings.

Well, it’s one of the reasons. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Maria, per se. It’s just that, at the moment, Sergeant Barnes is a wanted man, and Barry can tell she wants to bring Barnes in.

They were married a long time. He knows that look.

“I never caught your name,” Barnes says once he’s finished climbing up a tree.

Barry passes up the rifle. “Barry Dernier.”

Barnes laughs. “I thought I recognized that shit-eating grin.”

* * *

 

“You want to _what_.” It’s not a question. Owen heard her the first time, and he can see with his own two eyes. He mostly just wants Hawkeye to stop and realize what she’s actually saying.

She just raises an eyebrow at him as Falcon helps her into a flak jacket that is _purple_ , of all the ridiculous things.

“What if you miss?”

Even the Falcon looks insulted at that. “She’s _Hawkeye_.”

“I won’t miss,” she says. “Neither will Clint.”

“ _Two_ of you are doing this?”

“Well, what if one of those flying assholes tries to kill one of them?” Scott nods towards a pterosaur circling overhead. He eyes the table where Coulson laid out his weapons with an air of distrust. Scott was the only one who wasn’t excited about that, whereas Hawkeye had cooed when she’d seen a bow in Coulson’s haul.

“Yeah, I don’t want that.” Hawkeye grins at the Falcon as he pushes a pair of shooting glasses up the bridge of her nose. “How do I look?”

“Like an idiot,” he informs her, hefting a bag over his shoulder and unholstering a gun.

“I have to agree with that,” Owen falls in step with the two of them. “Your plan is to shoot a dinosaur in the eye.”

“It’s not like I’m using a slingshot,” she points out.

They don’t have far to go to get to the place Claire had designated for them. Of the three spots, theirs is the most open, which means that nothing can sneak up on them, but that there’s no place to hide if this whole plan goes off the rails.

This whole day has gone off the rails, so Owen is counting on this to fail.

“Not a lot of cover,” Falcon notes.

“So you two will wait over there, then,” Hawkeye indicates a pavilion with a few picnic tables on it, about fifty yards away.

“No we _won’t_ ,” Falcon gives her a look that very clearly says _you dumbass_. “We’re going to be next to you.”

“How am I supposed to shoot a dinosaur if I’m worried about the two of you all exposed?”

Falcon opens his mouth and thinks better of it. “Fine,” he says after another moment, jiggling the bag over his shoulder. “But your bow stays with me.”

“What? That’s not fair. That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Either the bow and I stay with you, or the bow and I go have a nice little picnic over there. Up to you.”

Hawkeye looks nonplussed. “Well, if you start screaming I’m not going to save you.”

“ _Guys_ ,” Owen steps between them. “We need to get set.”

He and Barry and Claire have synched their watches, spy-movie style, and they’re on the clock. Barry’s guy did the math, given the distance and the ammo of all three shooters, and they have specific times that they have to act in so all three rounds hit the _indominus_ at once.

“You’ve got thirty seconds, Hawkeye, so can it,” Owen snaps, but it’s not necessary. Hawkeye is already set and aiming—how is she going to aim, anyway, using the Force? This whole thing is a bad idea, up to and including the old guy they’re using as bait. His hair is _white_ , there’s no way he can get out of the way of the _indominus—_

She comes roaring into the courtyard, heading towards the old guy who—isn’t there any more. Owen doesn’t even have a chance to marvel at this before his watch starts to beep, and Hawkeye fires.

* * *

Tommy is standing next to Claire again, and that’s what important. She’s going to focus on that fact. She’s going to patently ignore other things.

Things like explosions, and that thing in her hair that’s maybe dinosaur brains, and the white fragment that's probably bone that landed by her feet, and the body of the _indominus_ that no longer has a head.

She is ignoring all of those things. Those things? Not even worth mentioning, because they don’t exist. They don't exist, so Claire is able to keep her cool and not fly into a raving mess.

What _is_ worth mentioning is that the pterosauruses that managed to avoid being tranquilized earlier have been startled, and that they head for the most obvious target.

Which is where Owen and his team are.

“Where are you going?” She grabs Steve’s arm as he attempts to storm past her

“Fury said he brought in two sharpshooters,” Steve says while still, somehow, managing to keep his jaw clenched. “Clint was with us, Bucky was with Hill, that means Hawkeye is with Coulson.”

“Wait, I thought Clint _was_ Hawkeye?”

“He’s one of two.”

Captain America slides into the driver’s seat and starts prying off—

“Hold on, are you getting ready to hotwire this car?”

“Ma’am.”

Claire’s been called _ma’am_ enough times that she knows there’s an implied _fuck you_ in this one.

“You could have just asked for the keys, Captain,” she says, tossing them at Steve’s head as she climbs in the passenger side, urging Zach and Grey into the backseat. She wasn’t exaggerating; she is _never leaving them again_. “Drive.”

* * *

The math was perfect. Barry had expected nothing less from the legendary Bucky Barnes, but that doesn’t make it any less impressive.

Barry feels a pang of regret. It’s not as though it was the _indominus_ ’s fault. She’d been made that way, never socialized. It’s hard to feel sympathy for a creature that killed so many—people and other dinosaurs—but at least it was a swift end.

Barry sees the _indominus_ go down (and parts of her go up, and then down) and he’s moving towards the motorcycles almost immediately.

Barnes drops out of the tree, heading for the bike nearest him. They _did_ think this might happen, he thinks, as the pterosauruses descend on the pavilion.

* * *

Owen barely has time to take in the fact that _they just blew up a dinosaur_ and that the woman next to him is _insane_ because who even thinks about using a grenade launcher with that little compunction? An insane woman who looks a little…grey, and Falcon has a grip on her shoulder, keeping her upright by the looks of it.

“No puking,” he tells her. “We die like Avengers.”

This earns Falcon a watery chuckle.

“Save it for Coulson, Hawkeye.”

“Promise to aim me at his shoes?”

“It’s a deal.”

She takes a few deep breaths and some color comes back into her cheeks. “I’m just going to not think about this right now.” Her voice is bright. “Oh, _crap_.”

Owen notices it, too. A flock of pterosauruses heading towards them.

“Come on, man,” Falcon says to the approaching predators.

Hawkeye hums as she pulls out a bow and slings a quiver of arrows over her shoulder.

It’s actually not as bad as it seems. Between the three of them, they manage to take down a handful, which causes the rest of the flock to give them wide berth.

 

* * *

 

 

Owen has seen his share of tearful reunions. Been a part of some of them, too. The kind where you weren’t sure you were ever going to see the other person again.

Reunions all have different flavors; this reunion is the kind where you didn’t think you’d see the other person again. You hold on to the other person as tight as you can because something came close to ripping them away from you. You bury your face in their hair or their shoulder. You stare at them to make sure they’re real.

You don’t let go of them.

It’s how Hawkeye reacts to the man who comes roaring in with Barry. It’s the way the guy—who has a metal arm, what the _hell_ —pulls her so close he’s just holding her almost a foot off of the ground.

It’s how she and _Captain America_ greet each other.

Captain America, who drives like a bat out of hell, tires of the jeep screeching as he slams the breaks and throws himself out of the car. Cap looks like he can’t quite believe she’s here, jogging towards them before breaking out in a run. Hawkeye running as best _she_ can with a gash running down her thigh—when did that happen?— her bow still clenched in one hand.

Owen can hear her sharp gasps for air—she barely makes it ten feet before Cap is on her, catching her in what appears to be a bone-crushing hug.

Owen gets a little caught up in his own triumphant reunions, then, and kind of misses the rest.

* * *

Barry sees the way Maria and the other two men—one of them is Coulson, he thinks, and the other is Fury—keep looking at the group of people they brought along. They are sharing urgent whispers.

Barry knows why these people were being held. They live on an island, not under a rock, and he's kept an eye on everything that's been going on with the Accords. He also thinks he knows enough about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes to know they won’t let their friends go back to prison without a fight.

Barry sidles up to Owen, looks at Claire. “We need one more plan,” he tells her.

* * *

“Go on,” Owen jerks his head toward the spy-plane. “I don’t know how long Barry and the kids will be able to distract your babysitters.”

“Son,” Captain America grips Owen’s hand. “We owe you.”

“Right,” Owen says but doesn’t believe it.

The Captain opens his mouth to say something else but Kate cuts him off before he says a word. “Owen, he means it. Steve, we’ll look him up later. Owen, we’ll be in touch. Thank you.” Her eyes find Claire as she says it, and the two of them seem to communicate something with their eyes that you can only understand if you’re some badass-type chick who could probably walk through hell and only look mildly inconvenienced, and even then only because Satan refused to validate her parking.

Something like that, anyway.

Claire nods at Kate, and then a group of superheroes on international watchlists board a plane.

Claire slides her hand into his, and squeezes. “We need to go back.”

“Right.”

“We’re going to tell SHIELD that they threatened us. SHIELD won’t believe it, but they won’t have proof otherwise. They threatened me more than you, and you felt like you had to do what they said, or they were going to kill me.”

Owen side-eyes her. “Seriously?”

“We need to have our stories straight.”

“Oh. Right.” Owen’s brain is fried, and honestly he’s a little glad he isn’t being forced to think on his feet. He thinks he could probably go a really long time without having to improvise like this again.

He thinks he would _welcome_ a date with a three-page itinerary, so he could look to Claire so she can definitively tell him that nowhere in this date do they get eaten by a Frankensteined dinosaur.

* * *

 _Greetings from Sunny Moscow!_ The postcard he and Claire get exclaims. Cap, Hawkeye, and Bucky are in front of the Taj Mahal, and the postage implies it was mailed from Japan.

Claire sticks it on their refrigerator.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, they did go back and break everyone else out. Kate could not possibly enjoy being on the lam if her non-sexual life partner Billy was not also free.  
> Barry and Maria start seeing each other again. Claire gets offered a job managing the lab that Betty Ross and Jane Foster work out of.  
> And they all lived happily ever after!


End file.
